In the middle of the night I got up to use the bathroom and it was quickly apparent to me that I was not wearing pants. In chilly weather I sleep in flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt, and I was wearing the t-shirt and my underwear, but I was not wearing my pants. I came back to bed, and Paul was awake so I informed him of this development, and he was intrigued by the mystery but apparently didn’t at first believe me, because there was some fact-checking. When he was satisfied that I was indeed not wearing any pants, he added another piece of the mystery: earlier in the night, he had awakened to the sound of a lightly-slammed door, and had seen me walking back to bed. He said he asked me what was going on, and that I had refused to answer. Ah. Sleepwalking.
In the morning, I hoped to find my pants hanging on their usual hook in the closet (maybe that was the door I slammed), but they were not there. I thought maybe they would be in the drawer, but no. In the bathroom? No. Well, that was concerning: if my pants were not in my room or bathroom, that meant I had gone walking around the house with no pants on, and we have two kids who are up most of the night. Perhaps I had walked pantsless right past them. I wondered nervously if there was anywhere else the pants might be, anywhere else that might indicate I did NOT (necessarily) walk through the house in my underwear. In the kids’ bathroom? Sometimes when I sleepwalk I use their bathroom. And that’s just right outside our bedroom door, so maybe I would have been pantsless but unseen. I got in the shower, still worrying.
After my shower, I opened the bathroom cupboard—and there were my pants. It is not clear why I put them there, but the discovery of them on the immediate premises is a hopeful sign that I did not walk around the house without pants on, but instead stayed local.
This is hysterical. In my relationship with Coach I believe that if I asked him to fact check to see if I am indeed wearing pants is essentially an invitation for other things to happen. In other words, I think if I asked him this he would be more than happy to investigate.
I have raced to the laundry room missing a key wardrobe element recently in hopes that I would cross paths with no one. I am glad that you did not walk around the house in your underwear.
This is so funny! Glad you found them close! Please keep writing and telling us about all your thoughts, even if you think they’re not good enough to post etc. I know sometimes you say you keep a list of things to write about for a while or backspace because it seems drab. Just know I (and many others!) are excited/desperate for posts. It always brightens my day when I see there is a new one.
Ohm’gosh, this is funny, Swistle. I’ve been reading you for ages and it seems this is the first time I’ve heard about sleepwalking…?
Sending you hugs, because sleepwalking is a sign of stress, and it also causes stress, because it’s not in your control.
This cracks me up! But mainly because I refer to our family as “the naked family.” We all strut around in our underwear All. The. Time! And no one cares or is uncomfortable. Our close friends know not to show up at our house unexpectedly. We will not answer the door because no one has pants on!
LOL. I had the same thought. Parts of my family of origin are from Europe and all of that crowd (those still there + at least some descendants over here, myself included) considers underpants = dressed enough for family. This does not extend to my (American) DH, who would not wear just underpants around anyone except (a) spouse or (b) same-gender family.
I’m from the UK and my dad is half French and yes, walking around the family house in underwear is totally normal! I don’t see it as any different than swimwear. I will also happily sunbathe topless in a mixed group of friends or family, and my female friends and I (in our 30s) have no problem being naked in front of each other. The only place I would draw the line is full nakedness in front of male friends or family. Culture is weird!
I have formed the theory that there are 2 kinds of cultures — the “avert your eyes!” cultures and the “cover yourself!” cultures. The first one, certainly including many of the European ones I descend from and/or have traveled in, if someone sees more of your partly (or poorly) clad body than they are “supposed” to, they should look away and/or pretend it never happened — the burden is on them. In the second one (which I think includes much of the US and no doubt many others), it is problematic to reveal parts of your body you are supposed to keep concealed, and your responsibility to keep them covered up — the burden is on you.
No doubt that’s a gross oversimplification.
Same. Our kids are now 14 and almost-12, and we’ve only recently started closing the bedroom door when getting full-on naked when getting changed/dressed, and underwear is definitely dressed enough to walk around the house in front of each other. Actually, I’m sure the back neighbours can see us if we venture into the kitchen at night since we don’t have any sort of covering over the sliding patio door that leads to the back yard. We have a pool though, so it doesn’t really seem much different than strolling in and out of the back of house in our bathing suits, so… *shrug*
This made me laugh! I did this quite a bit when I was first married. I would get up, go to the closet, pull out a different shirt from a shelf, and change shirts, leaving the rest on the floor. It’s so strange to go bed wearing one thing and wake up wearing another! I last did this a few years ago. I’ve never been caught in the act, my husband is a pretty heavy sleeper.
The last time I knowingly sleepwalked (?) was in college. Every time I get really stressed out I wonder if I will start back up again. So far, not yet.
It’s a sign of stress, I think, the sleepwalking. I talk in my sleep a LOT on the regular. Sleepwalking has never been a thing for me – until The Husband informed me that he has caught me TWICE in recent days wandering around late at night, looking for the bathroom…in the living room and in another room that was definitely not the bathroom.
The talking in my sleep I can roll with, I’ve done it my whole life. The sleepwalking freaks me (and him) out.
I’ve been know to strip off my pajamas and fling them across the room in my sleep when I get hot, so I feel this topic. I grew up in a covered up home but my husband grew up where underwear is enough around family. It’s been an adjustment for me when I spend time around his family.
I’m so thankful for this blog! Especially when you have more time on your hands to entertain us with stories like this. Ha!
Oh my goodness. This made me laugh!